


darling am i a chore?

by suckhwas



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Insomnia, M/M, Massage, Sharing a Bed, aka seonghwa gets a cold, brief mentions of illness, inexcusable cheesy fluff, seonghwa's lowkey whipped but doesn't notice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 09:04:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20240296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suckhwas/pseuds/suckhwas
Summary: Five times Hongjoong accidentally helps Seonghwa fall asleep—and one time he does it on purpose.





	darling am i a chore?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elutherya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elutherya/gifts).

> this was written for the @ateezexchange summer promises fic exchange, the prompt was: comforting from insomnia/sharing a bed!
> 
> title from giants by bear hands. enjoy!

1.

Seonghwa swears under his breath as the van hits a bump and his head is slammed against the glass of the car window he was attempting to rest against.

He knew he wouldn’t fall asleep here—he can hardly do that in the comfort of his own bed, much less in the cramped company van—but at least getting to relax for a few hours on their commute to some remote shooting location would have been nice.

Hongjoong snorts a laugh next to him, quiet as to not wake Wooyoung and Jongho dozing in front of them. Seonghwa turns to try and glare, but it’s weak. He’s tired, too many restless nights in a row for him to muster up the energy to snipe back.

“Sorry,” Hongjoong whispers, but he doesn’t sound very sorry at all, lips turned up in a teasing smile. “Your head okay?”

Seonghwa rolls his eyes but a smile creeps onto his lips as well. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Hongjoong nods and turns back to the laptop balanced on his knees, one earbud in and the other hanging limply at his chest. He had been tapping away at beats and melodies and effects in his composition software since they started travelling, and didn’t appear to be slowing down any time soon. 

“What’s this one?” Seonghwa asks, gesturing at the screen. It’s not like he’s going to relax with his head slamming against the window every two minutes, anyways. 

Hongjoong nods again distractedly, finger sliding on the trackpad to drag a sample across the screen, before he registers the question. “Oh! It’s a demo I’ve been working on, with Jongho, actually. He did some vocals for me last weekend and I’m just trying to fit everything together.” Hongjoong glances back at him, before offering the earbud he wasn’t using, “Want to listen?”

Seonghwa nods and leans in closer to put the earbud in. He likes getting to look inside of Hongjoong’s process, as complicated as it sometimes may seem. He likes knowing that Hongjoong is willing to share it with him. 

Hongjoong taps the spacebar to play the song, and the beginning notes play. It’s not done—Hongjoong makes that much clear with his running commentary as he points out sections that he hasn’t put vocals on or parts he thinks still sound like they’re missing something—but it’s _good_, smooth and vaguely R&B inspired. 

“That’s great, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa says as the last chords play, handing the earbud back to Hongjoong. “I think you’re right about the horns in the chorus. I like it, though.”

Hongjoong’s cheeks pink inexplicably at the praise, eyes still on his laptop. He’s already clicking away again, moving things around. “Ah, thanks… it’s still a bit rough but I know it’ll be really good eventually.”

“I’m sure it will,” Seonghwa says, before he has to cover his mouth and yawn. 

Hongjoong’s eyes flit over to him at the motion. “You can sleep on my shoulder if you want, Seonghwa. Probably a bit more comfortable than the window.”

Seonghwa considers it for a moment. He _is_ tired, and while he doesn’t think he’ll be able to fall asleep, Hongjoong’s fluffy-looking sweater would definitely be far more comfortable than the sides of the van to lean against. And… some small part of him is singing at _Hongjoong_ being the one to initiate the closeness.

“It’s fine, I don’t want to interrupt you,” Seonghwa says.

Hongjoong shakes his head emphatically. “You’re not sleeping on my hands, I can still work. Really, I know you could use a nap.”

Seonghwa sighs but shifts in his seat, sliding closer to Hongjoong until he can turn and rest his head on his shoulder. “I could say the same to you, but fine.”

“Shush, go to sleep,” Hongjoong says, reaching up with one hand to absentmindedly pat Seonghwa’s hair. Seonghwa resists a weird urge to lean into it.

He keeps his eyes open and watches Hongjoong work for a while, watches him arrange and rearrange beats and melodies and vocal lines that he can only vaguely hear leaking from Hongjoong’s earbuds, but can quickly feel his eyelids growing heavier. He closes them, and doesn’t remember falling asleep.

When he wakes, Hongjoong’s asleep too, computer shut and forgotten in his lap, and head resting against the top of Seonghwa’s.

2.

It’s late when they make it back to their hotel after performing in Japan. 

Seemingly every bone in Seonghwa’s body aches as he falls heavily into his bed after showering, though he knows it’ll be a long night. It doesn’t matter how hard he works himself during the day, sleep still takes him hours to reach, the unfamiliarity of this room and this bed likely to make it worse. He’s gotten used to it. 

The room is quiet except for the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. Hongjoong had graciously volunteered to shower second, and Seonghwa had been too tired to argue and insist he go first. Seonghwa’s still arranging himself under the many layers of hotel blankets when he hears the water turn off—though that means Hongjoong is only just starting his nighttime skincare routine with its seemingly-endless number of steps.

He can hear faint humming from the bathroom now that the water is off, the melody of some English song Seonghwa vaguely recognizes. Just a moment passes before Hongjoong is just singing along instead, albeit quietly and under his breath, though Seonghwa can still hear it through the thin walls. 

Hongjoong’s voice is pretty, Seonghwa’s always known this. Sweet and a little nasally, lilting along to the song that Seonghwa still can’t quite remember the name of. At some point, Hongjoong starts substituting random syllables and mumbling when he stops being so sure of the lyrics, but it’s still nice, somehow.

Hongjoong’s humming a different song before Seonghwa even realizes the first one ends, this time a melody he doesn’t recognize at all. He’s almost bothered by not being able to place it, before deciding to just close his eyes and listen, abandoning the headphones he was about to put on. Hongjoong’s voice is more interesting than any song Seonghwa has downloaded to his phone anyways. 

It’s after a few minutes of listening to the melody that Seonghwa still can't place when he notices that it hasn’t repeated. It’s almost aimless, no repetition where a chorus or verse might be, the sound totally different from where Hongjoong started just a few short minutes ago. Seonghwa is struck by the realization that Hongjoong must be making this up on the fly, creating music in his head like it’s second nature.

He wonders idly if Hongjoong is humming just for the sake of it or if he’s coming up with a new song at this very moment, something he’ll rush out of the bathroom to write down before it leaves him. He wonders if Hongjoong would ask him to listen to this one before it’s done, too. 

It’s relaxing, the muffled humming along to a song that only exists in Hongjoong’s head. Calming, somehow.

He’s not awake to hear Hongjoong leave the bathroom.

3.

Seonghwa has yet to fall asleep when he hears the distant commotion of the rest of the members returning to the dorm.

He’s wearing pajamas, in bed with the lights off, but he’s not asleep, instead on the hazy edge of consciousness that only fever and a pounding headache can bring. 

He hadn’t been this sick when he had woken up this morning. Tired, yes, but only the barest hint of a cough as he loaded into the van with everyone to go to practice. By dinnertime he was sweaty with fever and needed Yunho’s help making it back to the dorm after their manager deemed him unfit to continue practice. He’s surprised he didn’t collapse.

Hongjoong had fretted over him as he changed and slipped into bed to rest for the evening, manager’s orders, but was eventually waved off to finish practice and eat dinner, at Seonghwa’s insistence.

And despite that—the quiet in the dorms, the pain in his head and chest and guts, the fever jumbling his thoughts—he can’t fall asleep. Sleep escapes him even when his body is exhausted and aching and it just feels a little cruel. The sound of everyone returning home means he’s laid here for _hours_.

He closes his eyes as Hongjoong tiptoes in, thankful when he leaves the lights off. 

“Feeling any better?” Hongjoong whispers, hands on the top bunk railing as he peers over the bars at Seonghwa.

“Not really,” Seonghwa rasps miserably.

Hongjoong winces as he lays a hand on Seonghwa’s forehead, before darting out of the room to retrieve a glass of water and a packet of medicine.

“Here, sit up,” Hongjoong says, head now above the bed railings instead of peeking through them—he must be standing on something.

Seonghwa does as he’s told, sitting up gingerly as Hongjoong stuffs another pillow behind his back to rest on. He reaches for the sachet of pills Hongjoong is holding, but Hongjoong carefully tears it open and dispenses the pills into his hand instead. He doesn’t let Seonghwa hold the glass by himself either, a careful hand bracing the bottom as Seonghwa takes slow sips.

It should be… irritating, being treated like this. _Babied_ by someone who isn’t even older than him. And he does feel a little bad, when he’s supposed to be the eldest hyung that even Hongjoong can rely on, but instead needs Hongjoong to take care of him.

But it’s not, somehow. Maybe it’s how casual Hongjoong is, not giving him any pitying looks or cooing the kinds of reassuring words they would use with the younger members. He’s just gentle, carefully helping Seonghwa lie back down once he’s drained the glass.

Seonghwa closes his eyes and croaks out a _thanks_ as Hongjoong wipes his face with a cool washcloth and smooths his sweaty bangs back. Just the brief contact is soothing, and Seonghwa finds that a small part of him even _enjoys_ being doted on like this. He’d rather not be horribly sick, of course, but… it’s nice. Hongjoong’s presence while he runs his small hand through Seonghwa’s hair is comforting in a way that he hasn’t been comforted in a while.

He’s asleep before Hongjoong even leaves his side, and if he feels the ghost of a pair of lips pressed to his forehead, he’s pretty sure the fever made him delirious enough to hallucinate it.

4.

Sunday evenings spent as a group are important to the team. Despite working and living together, there often wasn’t much time to just _relax_ together, or talk and decompress as a team, so their Sunday evening ritual of spending the time after dinner and until bed together was sacred.

Sometimes they’d play video games, or go out for some not-nutritionist-approved dessert, or play board games in the living room. Sometimes they’d just sit around on their phones and chat idly for a few hours, a seemingly mundane luxury that they often don’t have during the rest of the week. Tonight, it’s a movie.

Seonghwa’s not sure what—some American action movie that Jongho picked—but it doesn’t matter. Movie night usually just means talking-over-the-television-while-a-movie-is-playing night, so it’s not like he would have understood what was going on, anyways.

He and Wooyoung had lost the game of rock-paper-scissors for couch privileges, so Seonghwa finds himself sitting on a pillow on the ground, in front of the couch at Hongjoong’s feet. It’s not the most comfortable—he wishes he could lean his back against something—but rock-paper-scissors decreed it, there was no room for argument.

It’s not so bad, though. Seonghwa pays half of his attention to the movie and half to the various conversations happening behind him, content to just listen.

Ten minutes into the movie, Hongjoong grabs Seonghwa’s shoulders and pulls backwards so he’s resting against the sofa between his knees, and Seonghwa is immediately grateful. He turns to whisper a thanks, but Hongjoong is facing Yunho at his side and caught up in some conversation that Seonghwa can’t follow. He idly notes how striking Hongjoong looks like this—profile illuminated by the blue glow of the television, the light emphasizing his sharp features—before turning back to the movie that he’s already lost on the plot of.

While the male lead and love interest have an argument, Hongjoong’s hands start distractedly petting his head. Seonghwa can’t help but lean into it. It’s calming, Hongjoong’s small hands carding through his hair and occasionally rubbing at his scalp. 

Something warm bubbles up in Seonghwa, too. Something that reminds him of how _awkward_ they used to be, and now not even a year later Hongjoong is comfortable enough to mindlessly play with his hair. Like it’s not a _chore_ for him to be touchy anymore, not something Hongjoong forces himself to do so he doesn’t hurt Seonghwa’s feelings. 

Seonghwa can’t deny that it makes him feel good.

His eyelids are growing heavy by the time the contrived plot-twist is unraveling on screen. A deadly combination of a movie he’s not invested in, a long day of practice, and Hongjoong’s hands continuing to absentmindedly card through his hair has Seonghwa feeling closer to falling asleep than he usually ever does. Hongjoong must notice his head drooping forward, and gently tips Seonghwa’s head back so he’s resting partly on the couch cushion but mostly on Hongjoong’s thigh. He resumes just petting at Seonghwa’s hair with no comment.

Seonghwa falls asleep long before the credits roll.

5.

It’s nearing two in the morning when Seonghwa makes his way back to the company building to collect Hongjoong, who had stayed behind to hole up in his studio and work. 

Nearly everyone else was sleeping when Seonghwa left, exhausted from a day of recordings and practice. He was too, but it’s not like he would be able to fall asleep any time soon. So when his bedside clock informed him of the time, Seonghwa decided to go collect their leader himself instead of uselessly sending messages to his phone that was likely dead or on do not disturb.

It’s not a far walk to the company building, but Seonghwa just doesn’t feel good about leaving Hongjoong to brave it alone when he stays this late. He punches his keycode into the locked building and waves genially at the night security guard before making his way to the studio room Hongjoong likes to claim for himself.

He knocks on the door as a courtesy more than anything else, knowing Hongjoong likely has his headphones on and turned up loud enough that any attempts to get his attention would be futile. He just walks in after a moment with no answer, finding Hongjoong as he usually is in here: sitting with shoulders slouched in front of the computer, notebook open on the desk and his music software on the screen.

The reflection on the monitor gives away Seonghwa’s presence, and Hongjoong turns, pulling off his headphones at the same time. 

“You’ll ruin your back sitting like that,” Seonghwa says by way of greeting.

Hongjoong rolls his eyes at the reprimand, mindlessly tapping his fingers on his thighs like he’s itching to turn back to the keyboard. “I _know_, I know. What brings you here?”

“It’s almost two in the morning, Hongjoong.”

Hongjoong glances back at the monitor to check the time for himself. “Oh.”

“I’m here to bring you back before you pass out at your desk and miss our morning schedule.”

Hongjoong winces. “Okay, I know it’s already late, but—”

Seonghwa cuts him off. “Hongjoong, we have to be up at 5 tomorrow. You need sleep.” 

“Ten minutes, I swear,” Hongjoong holds his hands up placatingly, “I was really in the zone with this one and I’m almost done. Ten minutes and I’ll stop, you can forcibly turn off my laptop.”

Seonghwa sighs. It’s not like he had any chance of saying no to Hongjoong. “Fine, ten minutes.”

Hongjoong smiles brightly before turning back to his computer and sliding his comically large headphones back on. Something Seonghwa’s chest flutters. He ignores it to go sit on the dinky studio couch, leaning to the side and supporting his weight against the armrest. He briefly considers taking out his phone and messing around on some game or another, but he can’t be bothered. Exhaustion suddenly feels so much more present once he’s sat down.

Seonghwa lets his eyes close, and listens to the gentle hum of the air conditioning. Hongjoong is quiet while he works, occasionally humming snippets of whatever song he’s finishing up, but he’s constantly moving, too. Clicking his mouse or typing or tapping on the desk or playing chords only he can hear on the piano keyboard.

And it’s oddly soothing in a way, all the repetitive sounds. The sharp clicks of his mouse and clack-clack-clack as he types. The muted taps of his hands on the wooden desk. The sound of his fingers dancing over plastic piano keys. Seonghwa finds himself leaning heavily against the armrest of the couch.

He’s asleep within minutes of sitting down and listening, still upright. Faster than he’s ever fallen asleep in his own, significantly more comfortable, bed.

He wakes with Hongjoong curled up small on the rest of the couch, head pillowed in Seonghwa’s lap and sleeping soundly, and his heart seems to skip a beat. 

Seonghwa takes a minute to admire how relaxed he looks, how unconcerned, mouth relaxed and slightly parted, hair messy over his forehead and brow bone. It’s nice to see Hongjoong resting. Seonghwa gently pushes the hair out of Hongjoong’s face before groping around for his phone and swearing under his breath when he sees it’s been _two hours_ since he left the dorm. 

“Hongjoong,” He whispers, shaking gently at Hongjoong’s shoulder. “Hey, wake up.”

Hongjoong stirs then, rolling onto his back. He’s looking straight up at Seonghwa when he groggily blinks open his eyes and slurs something that might’ve been a question, but Seonghwa can’t decipher it.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Seonghwa asks. He had stupidly not set an alarm, not expecting to fall asleep on the lumpy studio couch of all places. Hongjoong just shrugs as he slowly sits up, yawning instead of answering, and Seonghwa rolls his eyes. “Did you finish your song at least?”

Hongjoong gives a sleepy smile at that. “It’s really good, Hwa.” 

Seonghwa stands to stretch, quietly pleased and hoping Hongjoong offers to play it for him soon. 

“Well, you’re welcome for not making you leave as soon as I got here,” He stops to cover his mouth and yawn. “If we speedwalk to the dorm, we can sleep another hour.”

Hongjoong laughs at that, half-muffled on another yawn and Seonghwa stifles a smile. He can’t even muster up the energy to be annoyed that Hongjoong let him sleep in the studio—it’s more sleep than he was expecting to get anyways.

Back at the dorm, he manages to pass out as soon as he’s tucked into his own bed.

+1

“Seonghwa, are you good?” Hongjoong says, quiet in the dark of their shared room.

Seonghwa stops where he was in the middle of flipping over to lie in a different position. Again. Currently being the middle of promotions and near exhausted every waking second had done nothing to correct how terribly he slept. Usually, he just lies on his side and thinks for a few hours before sleep has pity and takes him, but tonight, he just can’t seem to get _comfortable_, either. 

“Yeah, I’m okay, sorry if I woke you,” Seonghwa says, rubbing at his eyes and blinking at the ceiling. He doesn’t dare look at the time. “Just having trouble sleeping, is all.”

“You’ve been moving around for a while…” Hongjoong pauses to yawn, and Seonghwa instantly feels worse about having woken him up. If anyone needs their rest, it’s certainly Hongjoong. “How can I help? I can … make some tea?”

“Wh—Hongjoong, it’s fine, go back to sleep,” Seonghwa says, sighing when he hears Hongjoong getting up from the bunk below him despite his assurances.

“Are you sore from practice? I can rub your shoulders…” Hongjoong’s standing now, peering over the edge of Seonghwa’s bunk. 

Seonghwa sits up and holds his hands up in a way he hopes is placating. He _knows_ it’s late, knows they have a long day of schedules tomorrow. While the comfort of Hongjoong’s presence _does_ sound nice, keeping him awake would weigh too heavily on Seonghwa’s conscience. “Hongjoong, really, I’m okay, just go back to sleep.”

Hongjoong eyes him suspiciously over the railing of the top bunk. Seonghwa lets his hands drop to his lap.

“Seonghwa, I want to help you.” Hongjoong’s tone is still kind, but has lost the sleepy edge. It’s firm, now. “If you won’t let me help you for _you_, then do it for me. The whole bed frame shakes every time you turn over.”

Seonghwa winces. Well, if he’s keeping Hongjoong up either way… He sighs, defeated. “Okay, fine. Maybe I’m sore.”

Hongjoong smiles, relieved, and gestures vaguely at the bottom bunk. “Come sit down here then.”

Seonghwa does as he’s told, climbing down the ladder from his bed to sit on Hongjoong’s, legs crossed and facing his pillow. He feels the mattress dip as Hongjoong kneels behind him.

“This okay?” Hongjoong asks, laying his hands gently on Seonghwa’s shoulders. Seonghwa nods with a sigh.

With that, Hongjoong digs his thumbs into Seonghwa’s shoulders, and Seonghwa grunts in surprise. Maybe his shoulders _were_ tense.

“Do you usually have trouble sleeping?” Hongjoong asks, then adds—“You’ve never woken me before.”

“Uh…” Seonghwa considers lying. He doesn’t want to worry Hongjoong, give him another burden on his seemingly endless amount already, but it doesn’t feel right to lie either. He settles on a half-truth, enough of the reality of his sleeping habits but not so much as to freak Hongjoong out. “Sometimes. It just… takes me a while.”

Hongjoong doesn’t talk for a moment, like he’s trying to decide if he believes him. “You can tell me things like that, you know. If you’re having troubles.”

Seonghwa nods, stifling another grunt as Hongjoong’s thumb presses into a particularly sore spot. “I know. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Just let me know. I want to help you if I can,” Hongjoong says.

Seonghwa just hums in understanding, unsure how to feel about the soft tone Hongjoong’s voice takes on. It’s enough for Hongjoong though, who continues to work his thumbs in circles at the base of Seonghwa’s neck without saying anything more.

He loses track of time from there, focused solely on the warm press of Hongjoong’s hands as they carefully move across his back. He can feel the tension leaving as Hongjoong works at the knots in his neck and shoulders. Hongjoong’s hands are small, but strong, kneading and pressing into tense muscles and sore spots Seonghwa didn’t realize were there, and it quickly becomes harder to keep his eyes open. He’s not sure if it’s a testament to Hongjoong’s skill or his own exhaustion that he suddenly feels on the verge of falling asleep sitting up. He braces a hand on the mattress to keep himself upright.

“Good?” Hongjoong asks, hands moving to press firmly against his shoulders.

“S’good,” Seonghwa mumbles, another groan trying to escape his throat, and fights a losing battle to keep his head from lolling forward.

He doesn’t realize he’s fallen asleep until he wakes as Hongjoong is pulling the covers up to his chin, a pillow somehow under his head. He doesn’t even remember laying down.

“H’ngjoong?” Seonghwa slurs, still teetering at the edge of sleep. He’s awake enough to know that he’s basically kicked Hongjoong out of his own bed, but he halts in his sluggish attempts to argue when he realizes that Hongjoong is just climbing in beside him instead of moving up to the top bunk. 

“Shush, go back to sleep,” Hongjoong whispers, smoothing the sheets over Seonghwa’s shoulder before shifting into a more comfortable position.

Seonghwa doesn’t have it in him to protest, not when he’s ready to drift back into sleep hours earlier than he has for weeks. Not that he’d even want to anyways. He turns onto his side, facing the wall, the pleasant warmth of Hongjoong’s back pressed to his own.

“G’night,” Seonghwa mumbles. He’s asleep again before Hongjoong can respond.

When Seonghwa wakes, he finds that he’s turned in his sleep, now facing Hongjoong and, embarrassingly, clinging to him too. He’s not even typically one to move much in his sleep, but he’s managed to tuck himself against Hongjoong’s chest and tangle their legs together in the blankets. 

Hongjoong is still blissfully passed out and Seonghwa’s first instinct is to pull away and maybe panic, just a little, before he realizes that their alarm hasn’t even gone off. He still has time to sleep, and… it would be rude to wake Hongjoong up earlier than they already need to be. Seonghwa wills his heart rate to settle and tries to relax. He’s comfortable, and warm, and dammit he _deserves_ to rest.

He looks up to where the morning sunlight peeks through the curtains to spill over Hongjoong’s sleeping frame. Lets his eyes wander over Hongjoong’s dark lashes, the slope of his nose, the curve of his lips. He likes seeing Hongjoong so at ease, expression relaxed in a way it almost never is when he’s awake. The way Hongjoong’s drooled a bit on himself—it’s somehow not surprising to realize he finds even _that_ endearing.

And it’s not even surprising as he realizes how much he’d like to lean in and kiss Hongjoong, or wake up to this sight every morning, or fall asleep again with Hongjoong’s warmth pressed close. It’s not scary, just feels inevitable that he would fall at least a little bit in love.

He’s startled out of his thoughts when Hongjoong’s eyes blearily blink open.

“Good morning,” Seonghwa says once his heart returns to beating at a normal speed, voice still scratchy with sleep and cheeks gently pink.

“‘Morning…” Hongjoong yawns before he continues, “Did you sleep any better?”

“Yeah, I did, thanks,” Seonghwa says. He feels quite rested for once, and safe tucked against Hongjoong’s smaller frame. “Helped a lot, actually.”

“Good, I’m glad,” Hongjoong says, blinking slowly like he’s not completely awake yet.

They fall silent, and suddenly Seonghwa doesn’t know where to look. There’s not really a reason for him to stay pressed close now that Hongjoong is awake, but it’s not as if Hongjoong has made any move to untangle himself from Seonghwa either. They’re so close it’s hard to not look Hongjoong in the eyes, but the quiet eye contact is making his face heat up embarrassingly, Hongjoong’s gaze intense as always. Hongjoong’s eyes flit down once or twice and look at his lips and Seonghwa doesn’t quite know what to do with that except resist the urge to do the same in return.

“Can I kiss you?” Hongjoong asks, voice soft as he breaks the quiet, and Seonghwa feels his heart do something akin to a somersault in his chest. 

Seonghwa can only manage to nod, and then he’s leaning up as Hongjoong tips his head down, and it’s almost like he can hear the blood rushing in his ears from how hard his heart is beating. But their lips meet and it’s—it’s sweet. Their lips are only pressed together for a chaste moment before Hongjoong is leaning back with a small smile.

“I’ve wanted to do that… for a while, I think,” Hongjoong admits.

“You can do it again, if you want,” Seonghwa says, quietly.

Hongjoong just hums before leaning in, and Seonghwa meets his lips again. Hongjoong’s lips gently pressing back against Seonghwa’s feel just as warm and safe as being in his arms. Seonghwa tilts his head to slot his lips against Hongjoong’s, pressing a bit more insistently, pleased at the way it makes Hongjoong sigh against him and tighten his arms where they’re draped over Seonghwa’s shoulders. Seonghwa’s own hands find their way into Hongjoong’s hair, carding through it before settling at the back of his head, holding him close.

Seonghwa thinks he could easily spend the rest of his life just kissing Hongjoong in the early morning sunlight, exchanging lazy presses of lips and giggling when their noses bump. It’s simple and unhurried, unlike anything else going on in their busy lives, and he wants to savor it.

Hongjoong’s phone starts to blare his morning alarm from under the pillow, and he groans, pulling away and rubbing at his tired eyes.

“Will you sleep here again tonight?” Hongjoong asks, “You’re welcome to if it helps you fall asleep, but to be honest I’d like to kiss you more, too.”

Seonghwa smiles, leans up to press a kiss to Hongjoong’s lips once more. “That sounds perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> (seonghwa sleeps great that night *wink wonk*)
> 
> i know i'm just as shocked as y'all are that this isn't a pwp for once and is like 100% absolute cheesy nonsense, but i hope you still enjoyed! also apologies if you can tell that the extent of my knowledge about music production comes from opening garageband one time hahaha
> 
> my recipient is my adoptive fandom parent Rene whom i love very much and i am honored to write something for them! Rene ily lots and i hope you enjoyed!
> 
> you can find me on [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/seonkhwas) or on [twitter @seonkhwas](https://twitter.com/seonkhwas), my account is locked because i talk about fic but do feel free to request!
> 
> thanks for reading, hope u enjoyed! <3


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